Ritual·Full moon
Full Moon Ritual: Release What Weighs You Down
The full moon lights everything up, including what you carry. This ritual helps you lay it down.
Crystals that fit
Incense that fits
✦ The Book of Rituals ✦
Words and acts that carry you, when the everyday cannot.
✦ Open to all ✦
The full moon lights everything up, including what you carry. This ritual helps you lay it down.
When the head is loud and everything moves too fast, the earth calls you. Five minutes, bare feet, stillness.
The first words you say to yourself in the morning set the tone for the whole day. Choose them with care.
The new moon is the dark, quiet place where everything new begins. Here you sow what you wish to see grow.
When the world demands too much, you draw an invisible circle around yourself. Inside, you decide.
A bath can be a sanctuary. At full moon you bathe yourself home to your body.
Some truths must be written down before they can be released. And some must be burned.
Before anything new can land, it needs somewhere to land. This ritual makes the space, quite literally.
We are world champions at celebrating everyone else. Tonight, the party is yours.
You know the one. Batteries, loose keys, a hair tie from 2019 and a receipt you're scared to throw away. Tonight, it's the drawer's turn.
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Your home remembers. This ritual cleanses the rooms of old energy, so there is room for you.
She is still there, the woman you were before you became everything for everyone else. Call to her.
Four times a year the year turns. This ritual helps you turn with it.
You have played the perfect woman long enough. This ritual is not about getting better at anything. It is about resigning.
Most intentions are really "shoulds" in a nice outfit. In the dark, it is harder to lie.
The new thing needs to be spoken aloud once before it dares to grow.
One candle for each small action. No action, no flame. Yes, it's strict. So is the moon.
A little pouch in your pocket to squeeze when you are about to back out.
For the moment a voice inside asks: "Who do you think you are?"
Knot magic is one of the oldest kinds of magic there is. A knot holds on to what you don't want to lose.
The obstacle hasn't come to stop you. So let's ask it what it does want.
When you have said yes to something important, seal it, so you don't renegotiate with yourself tomorrow.
Refining means sharpening the edge. It does not mean rewriting the entire plan at 11pm on a Tuesday. This ritual knows the difference.
It's like a cake in the oven: keep opening the door to check on it, and it sinks. This tea keeps your hands busy while it rises.
For the moment you are about to step in, check, control, correct, send one more email.
The full moon lights everything up, including what we'd rather not see. This is shadow work, not self-criticism. The difference is kindness.
Water remembers. Tonight you ask it to remember the moon.
Every moon cycle teaches you something. Most of it we forget. This ritual slowly builds your own book of wisdom, one slip at a time.
What flows keeps flowing. What we clutch, stiffens.
The kitchen witch's oldest magic: food that is shared binds people together.
Some connections keep pulling on our energy long after they have ended. This ritual cuts the cord, with love, not anger.
Witches have always had a broom. Not to fly on, but because it sweeps the old out.
On the darkest nights, dreams are clearest. This little pouch invites them closer.
We start things all the time. We almost never finish them properly. This ritual closes the cycle, so the new one can begin clean.
A lullaby for yourself, for the nights when your thoughts won't settle.